


A Favor to Ask

by Strike_Convoy



Series: Transformers Drabbles [1]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Transformer Sparklings, coffee talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strike_Convoy/pseuds/Strike_Convoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-'Dark Cybertron' the world is in an upheaval and Beatdown must make a difficult decision that affects the future of an innocent spark.  Calling upon her old informant, a Nyonan by the name of Ironhorse; and an old friend suffering from a recent scandal, Vixen, she asks them to meet her at a neutral cafe... one of the few still standing... because she has A Favor to Ask</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Favor to Ask

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Smok3dToyst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smok3dToyst/gifts), [CavalierConvoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/gifts).



      The three females were sitting around the cafe's table, drinking their energon silently. There was a small plate of snacks between them but only one of their trio had taken anything; more out of nervousness than anything else, it also happened she was the youngest of the trio.  
      “Thanks for coming you two.” Beatdown looked at them over her cube-shaped container, the pink energon glowing from with-in.  
      “Kinda didn't have a choice” Ironhorse, the youngest, fidgeted in her seat, picking up another energon goodie and nibbling at it, “Figured if I didn't, you'd get Prowl to come after me.” she groused.  
Beatdown frowned, “Look, you might've been my informant but I'd never do that. Prowl has... has been having issues lately.” she frowned, “I'm not sure he can be trusted anymore, honestly.”  
      “All the more reason to get off this hunk of metal” the other of their meeting, an older femme like Beatdown, shook her head, “After what happened I don't need him blackmailing me.”  
Beatdown frowned, poking at her glass of energon, “He's gotten really bad, hasn't he.”  
      “A lot of once good bots have.” Vixen whispered, leaning back and crossing a leg over the other, “Four million years of war will do that.” she grunted.  
Beatdown sighed, “Yeah. It'll do that.” she whispered, “I mean. Look at us.”  
      “What ya mean?” Ironhorse asked.  
      “Before the war…well, 'she' wasn't even a thing.” Beatdown said, “Now…well, seems like Cybertron is the exception to that rule. All the other planets we've heard about, the ones the Titans took bots and hot spots too? All have female and male.” she said, picking up an energon treat, “Now... we've all modified ourselves over the millennium as well as deciding to take up a different pronoun.” she popped the treat into her mouth, sighing in pleasure.  
      “Yeah well. That said... I got something ta tell ya” Ironhorse said, “I'm getting my two-wheeled butt off this planet. I'm gonna run with Rodimus' crew on the _Lost Light_.” she sipped her energon, a little harder than the stuff the other two were drinking, but she needed the 'courage', “I got to. Cybertron isn't safe. Sure, a quest to find some bots who have the description of 'legendary' isn't much safer…but at least Prowl isn't there.”  
Beatdown frowned, “Yeah. I…I know what you mean. It's part of why I called you here.”  
      “No, whatever it is…” Ironhorse started.  
      “Please –” Beatdown spoke rapidly, “– I know…I know it'd be unfair of me to ask you a favor, but you're leaving on the _Lost Light_ and I needed to talk to you before you go.”  
Vixen smiled, a gentle one full of confidence that belied the wild spirit that hid within the hover-vehicle that was her altmode, “Hun, of course you can ask a favor. We're old friends, you and I, so I wanna help if I can.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, a habit picked up from organics, Beatdown nodded her thanks. With a nod of her head she motioned the two other femmes to look outside the window of the shop, “You see that big bot with the small one in his lap?” she asked  
      “The small one who looks like he's climbing around the big one like he's on a quest?” Ironhorse asked, trying not to snicker at how the larger bot was doing his best to remain stoic and seemingly uninterested  
      “That's Striker, the big bot I mean.” Beatdown said, “He and his crew helped with the Ammonites when they attacked.”  
      “Wait so they're –” Vixen sat up a little straighter as she looked, “I'd heard some stories but I wasn't there to see it myself.”  
      “Oh I can just imagine.” Beatdown smiled, “The favor in question regards the smaller bot, a... a _sparkling_ that I took under my proverbial wing.”  
      “What's a sparkling?” Ironhorse asked, confused  
      “Basically... a child.” Beatdown said  
Both Vixen and Ironhorse paused in surprise.  
      “I know” Beatdown said, “Cybertronians can't have children, not like biological races can, or even some other mechanical races. But – That's what he is. How he came to be is not something I want to talk out in the open though.”  
      “Kinky” Vixen giggled, holding her hands up, “Okay, serious times. You said _proverbial_ ; so you weren't involved in the creation of this sparkling.”  
      “Correct, I wasn't.” Beatdown said, “Striker would say I'm a softspark for hard luck cases. He's probably right”  
      “So what can we do, we're both le–” Ironhorse started, then shook her head, “No. We _can't_. If you're gonna ask what I _**think**_ you're gonna ask, you _gotta_ ask something else! What you're asking is _**nuts**_ …if you were gonna ask what I think you were gonna ask, that is.”  
      “What was she…” Vixen asked, then her mouth became a little 'o' of understanding, “…I – I see. I can't believe I'm saying this but I agree with the two-squealer here. It's not a good idea.”  
      “We could get sick. Or shot at... or–or worse.” Ironhorse pleaded, mentioning a few things that would hopefully talk Beatdown out of what Ironhorse was sure she was thinking of asking the two of them.  
      “You'd be away from the Decepticons, Autobots and anyone in between.” Beatdown said, “I don't think Prowl knows he exists yet. I'd like to keep it that way. If Prowl does know, then all the more reason to get him off-planet.”  
      “He's that dangerous?” Vixen asked  
Beatdown shook her head, “No, not from what I've seen and experienced. I don't even think he's an outlier or point one-percenter. I just want him away from Cybertron until I _know_ it's safe.”  
      This, she whispered; both hands around her energon's container, bottom lip worrying as she spat out the words like curdled energon, or the wrong weight of oil. Painfully obvious that what she was asking them was so hard that it was near impossible to put into words, she could say anything _**but**_.

      Leaning forward, Vixen put her hand atop Beatdown's, “Sweetie, we'll do it.” she whispered, smiling gently, “We'll take the sparkling, watch over him. We'll keep him safe.”  
      “I. But.” Ironhorse sputtered, hitching like an engine that wouldn't overturn. She frowned, looking outside at the large bot and the sparkling. She saw how they reacted; the passers-by. Unsure glances at the pair. _Was that a mini-bot?_ They wondered, she told herself, _No something was off_.  
She had gotten stares like that when she decided to start calling herself 'she' and 'her'.  
      “Okay.” Ironhorse said softly, “Okay, we'll take him with us.”  
Beatdown was equal parts heartbroken and relieved, “Thank you. Thank you both so much.” she whispered to them.  
      “What's his name?” Ironhorse asked.  
      “Curse.” Beatdown whispered, “I didn't name him. The one who created him did, and he was called that long enough that it's stuck. Maybe when he's older, when his maturation therapy is complete he can pick a better name.”  
      “We probably shouldn't call him that on the ship, or at least on the crew manifest.” Vixen said, “Fairly stand-out name, and not one many would like to see attached to their voyage.”  
      “It's dumb, but I agree.” Beatdown nodded  
Ironhorse sighed, “Yeah, it really is dumb. Also safer if he goes by an alias.” she admitted, “It's worked for me.”  
Beatdown stood up, tossing a few shanix onto the table to pay for their drinks and plate of snacks, “Come on.” she looked to the other two, “Let's go and introduce you to Curse and Striker.”

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble is the fault of Smok3dToyst, for the shared "Sparkling Universe" between them, CavalierConvoy and Myself.
> 
> Ironhorse is a punk turned informant for Beatdown, who in turn works for Prowl and the security forces. Vixen, meanwhile, is Smok3dToyst's take on "Rosie the Riviter" a 'mascot' of sorts for the Autobot forces in the wake of both the Functionist Regime that used to rule Cybertron before the Decepticon's declared war, and the Decepticon's who are fighting to eradicate the Autobots and rule Cybertron; the motto being "Form Doesn't Dictate Function, You Can Help However You Can" (or something like that. I kinda just pulled it out my bum)


End file.
